


Steak

by Lost_Elf



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Bottom Rhys (Borderlands), Established Relationship, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, I Don't Even Know, Jack being Jack, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Tales from the Borderlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: Inspired by Jack-apedia.Jack wants to feed Rhys a steak. Rhys doesn't know how he feels about it. They talk about it almost like healthy asult people in a relationship. Then they do it.I suck at summaries.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Steak

**Author's Note:**

> Why am I doing this? I'm not into this. I shouldn't be doing this. This is not my thing. Why can't I get this out of my head? Aaaaaargh!
> 
> [30 minutes later] I actually did it. Wow. o_o

The first thing Rhys noticed when he walked into the dining room were pink handcuffs lying on the table next to the fork. Also, only one plate was set up; at the head of the table. And if that wasn't a massive indicator that Jack is up to something, the wide smile on his face was.

"Hey, cupcake, you had a nice shower?" he asks, face all innocence, but Rhys won't be fooled by that. He nodded carefully while his eyes kept darting between Jack and the food covered by a bowl to stay warm. Actually, it might not be food at all. To say Jack is unpredictable and chaotic would be understatement of the year, beating the sentence _"You can't bring him back from dead; that's impossible!"_ by a lot.

"Great!" Jack clasps his hands together. "Up to dinner? You hungry?"

Yes, he is. The whole house is filled by pleasant scents of whatever Jack made, but Rhys isn't coming anywhere close to that table before he is sure it's safe. "Yeah, kinda," he answers reluctantly, looking at the older man's chin. Is it weird that he still can't look him in the eyes, even after they've been dating for months now? Ever since Jack isn't just a part of his mind but a real thing, Rhys grew shy. "What is it?" he gestures to the bowl.

"Your diner, dumdum," Jack uses the momentary distraction to boop Rhys' nose, still trying to be nonchalant about anything that is or is going to be happening.

"So, why the handcuffs? Is it going to try to run?" he asks, for a moment actually considering it as an option. "And you won't eat?"

"I already ate," Jack shrugs. "As for the cuffs... Do you remember the time I was stuck in your head as an AI, and you came up with that plan that involved going to Old Haven –" for a second Rhys believed this could be a praise, "– and then there was a dozen of sleeping psychos around you and instead of moving fast you kept staring at them and scanning them?" But of course, he is just a naive boy.

"Yeah, I remember that," he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms on his chest defensively.

"Well, back then I had this _weeeeiiird_ moment when I was hungry even though I couldn't feel hunger other than yours, and you weren't hungry, and I really wanted to stuff a steak or two in you. I thought that this was just some weird being-an-AI-in-a-human-brain thing, but turns out, I still pretty much wanna stuff you with food..." He looks up at Rhys expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

"Jack, this..." he thinks about how to put it nicely. "This is weird." There is no other way. "Why?"

Jack shrugs again. "I dunno. Reasons. So, you up to it?"

"Whoa, no, slow down." Rhys has to stop himself from taking a step back. "You want to tie me up and feed me? Will you... get off on it?" It should be Jack blushing in that situation, but as always, it's Rhys whose face is red as a tomato.

"No. Maybe. How should I know?! I've never done this before. So, yes?" Jack is being his typical self with this, ignoring all the spoken and unspoken no's, too excited to slow down.

It's not like Rhys is exactly against it, either. It sounds... interesting. But... "It's weird."

Jack rolls his eyes, groans and steps closer, his proximity forcing Rhys to look him in the eyes. "Look, three days ago you wanted me to blindfold you and spank you. Wasn't that weird?"

Rhys spends most of his mental capacity on willing his blush again, and he doesn't think before speaking. "No. I mean, yes, but it's a kink, it's meant to be sexual. Food isn't. Besides, we were both turned on..."

Jack, of course, only hears what he needs to hear. "So, if my kink is feeding you, it's not actually weird, right?" he rises an eyebrow, daring his boyfriend to deny it. He is silent, and that makes Jack's grin double. "See? It's alright. And about being turned on – how do you know you don't like it when you haven't tried it yet?"

Rhys sighs. "That's a pretty stupid argument, but... Alright."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, that's my special boy! Come here, sit," Jack steers Rhys towards the chair after kissing him briefly. "If you feel bad or uncomfortable, just say it, we can end it. But try to not think about it too much and enjoy it. Let me take care of you, huh? Let Jack care for his favourite little CEO!"

Rhys knows that he is basically being manipulated, but he can't really be angry at Jack for preferring the nicknames Rhys likes. So what that Jack mainly uses them when he needs the younger man to agree with him?

He sits in the chair, lets Jack cuff his hands together behind the backrest. A few testing tugs tell him that he will be able to break free if necessary, and it also causes a little sparkle of heat to appear in his stomach. Gosh, this will be the most fucked up thing he ever did, and he let Jack control his arm to jerk him off once. This takes the cake.

"So, what am I having?" he asks, clearing his throat to get rid of the unnatural pitch of his voice caused by being tied to a chair with Jack still behind him.

"A steak," the former CEO answers and begins unbuttoning the younger man's shirt.

Rhys groans. "Jack, you know I'm not a steak person. At all."

"I know, pumpkin, I know." He can hear the eye-roll in Jack's voice. He is probably still pissed about the ruined date night. "But this is a grilled chicken steak, you will like it, I promise." He undoes the last button, moves the shirt away, revealing Rhys' flat stomach. "Yeah, that's it. This is probably the reason," he says as he gently runs his calloused hand over the smooth snow-white skin. "This belly just begs to be filled up to the brim."

_If you say so_ , Rhys thinks but doesn't say. He is too caught up in the tickling warmth. Then it's gone and Jack sits on the first chair to his right, turning it around so he can rest his forearm on the top of it. He flips the bowl over and puts it away, revealing the dish. Pleasant scents fill Rhys' nose again.

Jack takes one fry (homemade) and eats it, and Rhys frowns at him. "This is just mean..."

Shrugging, Jack eats one more. "Quality test. My boyfriend deserves the best, right? Now, open up," he follows it with a wink. Rhys opens his mouth maybe too wide and Jack puts two fries in before nudging his chin with a finger, telling Rhys to eat.

The food is good, as always. The fries were dipped in the sauce from the meat, and Rhys can already tell that Jack is right, he is going to like it. Still, he tries, out of spite, to not let it show how good it is when Jack offers a fork with a piece of meat on it. It's futile, his attempts. As soon as his tongue comes into contact with it, Rhys moans, because it's that good. Jack smirks, but fortunately doesn't say anything, too interested in watching Rhys chew and swallow.

"Whew! I didn't expect this to feel so good," he laughs. "Must be my inner beast speaking. Telling me to provide for my poor weak woman or something." Rhys opens his mouth to object that he is not weak, and definitely not a woman, but more fries and chicken are shoved in, and so he just rolls his eyes and chews slowly.

It's when they are past quarter of the steak when Rhys realises what effect this truly has on Jack. A visible erection in his pants, voice a little too deep when he tells Rhys to open up more. And because Rhys can be an ass and a tease too, he makes sure from that point to put up a real show. He chows even slower, letting his face express how much he likes it, and tilting his head back a little when swallowing, so Jack sees his throat move with it.

When half of the steak is gone, Rhys comes to a realisation. "Jack, I won't be able to eat it all," he warns the man quickly before his mouth is filled again. He already feels full, and more than half of the remaining food might actually make him burst. (Yes, he remembers what AI Jack wanted to do with him and a steak.)

"We'll see," Jack brushes him off, but he starts cutting the food into smaller bites. He probably doesn't want the fun to be over too soon.

Rhys forces himself to stop thinking completely, because the only thoughts he is able to produse are _full_ , _full_ , _warm_ and _full_. He relaxes, only focusing on chewing throughly and swallowing. He hates to call it what it is, but... what he really does is let Jack take care of him. Feed him, pace him. Rhys doesn't need to think about anything in that moment; not Atlas, not his MIA friends, not assassins that are after him daily. His mind is blank.

"That's it, baby boy. Let go," Jack praises him quietly as if not to disturb his peaceful state.

Some time passes – time that Rhys doesn't even try to measure – and then there is the sound of utensils being dropped on an empty plate. He opens his eyes, not remembering when he closed them, and looks up at Jack, who is in turn staring at his stomach. Looking down, Rhys gasps as he is sure his belly is actually, visibly _swollen_. Jack must see it too, because he starts running his hands over the bulge. Every time he presses down, kneading his big fingers in the soft flesh, Rhys groans or moans, until neither one of them can stand it.

Jack quickly opens the handcuffs, helping Rhys to his feet and manoeuvring him to the sofa in the next room. On the way, they both lose their pants and underwear.

Rhys doesn't spend much time wondering when did he become so turned on. When Jack took their hard members in his hand and started rutting against Rhys, big hand moving in tandem with it, Rhys threw his head back. The only thing he could do was to moan and let Jack pleasure them both, because any movement from him would probably trigger a nausea.

His eyes fell back down to the bulge on his stomach, and Rhys came so suddenly he choked on the air in his lungs. Jack soon followed, one hand jerking himself off, the other spreading Rhys' come over his stomach. He added his seed to it and fell to the side, catching his breath.

"Damn kiddo..." he panted. "This was—"

"Awesome and weird," Rhys finishes with a giggle, on cloud nine with the afterglow.

"Yeah," Jack says, pressing a kiss to the connection of flesh and metal on his shoulder. "Thank you for this."

Had Rhys not been too high from the events of the past hour and half, he would be shocked at the words, but like this, he just fell asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/ElfWriting) ^.^
> 
> I'm really, really surprised I didn't get hungry writing or editing this. If you got hungry reading this, I'm not sorry. Also, *yawn*. I'm evil.


End file.
